


Love Is Blind

by TzviaAriella



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Family Feels, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, if you're still upset about This Is How I Disappear then read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TzviaAriella/pseuds/TzviaAriella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before her wedding, Sayu Yagami visits Tokyo Detention House to dance with her brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is Blind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This Is How I Disappear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821341) by [TzviaAriella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TzviaAriella/pseuds/TzviaAriella). 



The interview room of Tokyo Detention House was an ugly, barren place, but it made no difference to Light. His head rose as the door swung open, eyes blinking in the general direction of the sound.

"Mom?"

"Afraid not," a woman's voice replied. "She's busy hosting tonight. You'll just have to settle for me."

 _Sayu._ He smiled, his foul mood easing. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

"No such luck. Ugh. Does it always smell this bad in here?"

"Only when you're here."

"Very funny." Sayu's footsteps clicked unusually loudly against the concrete floor, and something rustled as she slid into her seat. Light sat up straighter in his own chair, pasting on a smile.

"Well, don't you look fancy," he said.

"How did you know?" she asked, startled.

"You're wearing heels. And being a charitable soul, I can only assume your refusal to hug me is because you didn't want me to muss your dress."

Sayu sniffed. "I didn't _refuse_. I simply haven't hugged you _yet_."

"I'm ready whenever you are."

"No way. Not until you start being nice to me."

Light snorted. "When did I stop?"

"You're teasing me, you jerk."

"Why am I a jerk? I said you looked good."

"You're always a jerk. And you have no idea if I look good."

"Of course I do. You're my sister. You always look good."

"Perhaps today is the exception."

"In a dress and heels? I doubt it." Light smiled. "I've missed you."

"I know. I'm sorry." Sayu's voice was quiet. "You know why I've been busy, though."

"Mom talks of nothing else. The wedding's next week?"

"Tomorrow, actually."

 _Tomorrow. Right._ Light bit his lip. "I'm sorry. Time gets away from me sometimes."

"I understand. Not much point in remembering the date of a party you can't go to."

"I'd be there if I could."

"I know." She put her hand on his. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Humoring Mom. Even _I'm_ sick of hearing about dresses and table settings, and it's my own wedding. I can't imagine it's that interesting to you."

He shrugged. "Conversational beggars can't be choosers."

"You're not a beggar."

 _Close enough._ "It's fine. Honestly. I'm just glad to see her happy for once. Hear her, anyway."

Sayu was silent, but Light heard another rustle under the table. _A long skirt. Stiff. Multiple layers of fabric...  
_

"Are you wearing your wedding dress?" he asked, baffled.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"You can't come to the wedding, so I thought I'd bring it to you. Since I'm not allowed to smuggle you cake or booze, this seemed like the next best thing."

Light smiled. "You should have warned me. I'd have put on something nicer."

"You can do that?"

"Of course not. That's the joke."

"Very funny."

"I am funny."

"No, you're terrible. You've always been terrible."

Light gestured at his prison uniform. "The world would seem to agree with you."

"That's not what I meant."

"Still true, though."

"Shut up." Her foot nudged his, sharply. "I didn't come here to watch you throw a pity party."

"Oh?" Light's eyebrows rose in amusement. "What _did_ you come to watch me do?"

Sayu didn't hesitate. "I was hoping you'd dance."

* * *

"The tribunal is willing to spare your life."

L sat—perched, rather—across the table from him, eyeing Light as a hawk would a mouse. Light's chained hands clenched. "I'm hearing a _but_ in that statement."

"You always were clever."

"What are the conditions?"

"Several things. The notebook will be destroyed."

"I expected as much."

"You will be imprisoned, quietly, the rest of your life. If you cause trouble, your sentence is open to re-evaluation at any point."

"Of course. Is that a—"

"You will be blind."

Light froze, uncertain he'd heard correctly. "What?"

"You will be blind."

"I heard you, damn it. I'm asking what it means."

"Exactly what I said. If you agree to the deal, you will receive a life sentence, the notebook will be destroyed, and you will be blinded. Humanely, but permanently. Is anything about that unclear?"

"How the hell is that legal?"

"Because the representatives of eight sovereign nations say so. Including your own."

"I didn't vote for him."

L gave him a withering look. "Light."

"No. This is bullshit. They have no reason to do this."

"As long as you remain alive, there is a remote possibility some shinigami may try to drop you a notebook again. Your judges believe this is the kindest way to prevent that possibility."

"But there's no point," Light pleaded. "Even if a shinigami did give me a notebook, I could trade for the eyes and see just fine."

"I'm aware of that," said L. "The tribunal isn't. For your sake, I'd suggest you leave it that way."

"So, what are you saying? I should just let them gouge out my eyes?"

The detective sighed. "No, nothing so drastic. You'll keep your eyes, just not the use of them. A surgeon will remove a short section of your optic nerves and cauterize the cut ends, just to be sure. Once you recover from surgery, there should be no residual pain. Not physically, at least."

 _The kindest way._ Light's stomach turned. "They can't do that."

"With your consent, they can. Without it, you'll be executed within the week. This isn't a negotiation, Light. These are the terms."

"No."

"Then you'll die."

"Then I'll die. Don't pretend it makes any difference to you."

"It will be broadcast."

Light's angry comeback died unsaid. "It?"

"Your execution. If you choose to live, your identity as Kira will be kept secret. If you don't, the entire world will watch you die. I simply assumed you'd want to take that into account before making any rash decisions."

 _They can't do that,_ Light wanted to scream, but there was no point. L's eyes were truly on him now, and they held no trace of a bluff. _They can. They will._ The idea of going bound and blindfolded to his death—of his last, terrified moments immortalized for the world to see—was bad enough. The thought of what it would do to his family was worse. _Without me to kick around, the world will turn on them instead. Dad will never survive the shame, and Sayu's still in school. No matter where they go, she'll be bullied the rest of her life._

_Because of me._

He wet his lip. "If they're willing to hide me alive, why would they have to publicize my death?"

"They'd rather not hide you alive, either, but throwing a blind boy to the mercy of his former targets would reflect badly on them, and they know it. It's for their protection, not your family's. Or yours."

Light stared down at his hands, seeing them in detail as if for the first time. A popped blood vessel had left a small red dot at the very base of his thumb, and a white crescent halfway up his index nail bore mute testimony to some forgotten injury. Every crease on his knuckles, every pattern on his skin, every tiny hair stood out to him in hyperrealistic relief. _No matter what I choose, I'll die in prison. I'll never see the sun again._ His hands shook as he watched them, and he struggled not to cry.

"They say justice is blind," he said, trying and failing to make it a joke.

"That they do. Love, too. Not that you represent either category particularly well."

Light swallowed. "If I stay, my family—"

"Will be allowed to see you, yes. If they want."

"But I won't see them."

L studied him, his head listing to one side. "Does that matter?"

 _Yes._ Light didn't want to die, but the thought of spending his remaining lifespan in a tiny cell, alone and helpless, frightened him just as much. _If they were going to blind me and set me free, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but this...this..._

He wet his lip. "No one else will know?"

"Only your family."

"But if I die, everyone knows."

"Yes."

Light closed his eyes, willing himself not to be sick. "All right."

"All right what?"

"Burn the notebook and blind me. Just let me see my family first."

L nodded. "That's a reasonable request."

 _Nothing about this is reasonable._ "And I want—I want to touch them, L. When they visit me. If I can't see them, at least let me have that."

"You assume they'll continue to visit."

"I'm an optimist."

For a moment, L was silent. Then he sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." The detective rose.

"Ryuzaki, wait." Light looked up, teary-eyed. "Do you—am I making the right choice?"

In later years, that would be how Light remembered him, the image stamped in perfect clarity onto his brain: L looking down at him, eyes half-hidden by his hair, his expression almost pitying. "I have no idea, Light. But if you're wrong, I'm sure you'll find an alternative solution without my help."

L walked away.

* * *

"Dance?" Light echoed, perplexed.

Sayu's voice dripped amusement. "That's what usually happens at weddings, yes."

"You want me to dance? Now?"

"At least your ears still function."

He grimaced. "Why?"

"You're my brother. I thought you'd want to dance with me. And I'd hoped—I hoped someone might take a photo, but I guess that's not possible."

 _A photo._ It felt like mockery, but he knew she was sincere. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Sayu, I can't. I'll steer us into a table, or step on your dress—"

"It's been eight years. I assumed you'd know how to navigate by now."

"Navigate?" Light flashed her a sad smile. "Where do I ever go?"

"Point taken." Her voice was warm, jocular, but there was an edge of pity to it, too. "It doesn't matter, though. I asked you to dance with me. I never said I'd let you lead."

"I haven't danced since high school."

"All the more reason to do it now. Come on, Light. When's the next time you'll have a chance like this, huh?"

 _Never. I never will._ "I'd rather not."

"But—"

"Sayu, please."

She hesitated, then let out a disappointed sigh. "All right."

An awkward silence fell over them both, but Light didn't mind. He was used to silence, resigned to it, oppressive as it was. These days, it was conversation that overwhelmed him. _The dancing is just a pretext. She wants something from me. I don't know what she wants._

"So where's your husband?" he asked. "Not much of a fake wedding party with no groom."

Her dress rustled again, as if she were fidgeting. "He's with his mother."

"You should let me meet him sometime. Welcome him to the family."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Light smiled ruefully. "Not a fan of my work, I take it?"

"No, but that's not—he doesn't know."

"You're marrying this guy, and he doesn't know?"

"I tried. I tested the waters once, asked him what his thoughts were on Kira. It didn't—I'm not sure he believes you're human. Let's leave it at that."

 _Oh._ "He thinks I'm a monster, you mean."

"I didn't say that."

"You're not denying it, either." Try as he might, Light couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. "So what did you tell him?"

"The same thing we tell everyone else. You had a breakdown in college, fell out of contact, and we don't know where you are." She sounded embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

 _Not as sorry as I am._ "Guess I'm never meeting any of your kids, then."

"What makes you so sure I'm having any?"

"Because Mom will throttle us both if she never gets grandkids, and I'm in no position to oblige her."

Sayu snorted. "You picked a fight with every country on Earth and you're afraid of _Mom_?"

"Aren't you?"

"No."

"Well, no one ever said _you_ were a genius."

She flicked his arm. "You're a jerk."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. A cowardly jerk." Sayu flicked him again. "Jerk."

"In my defense," he said, trying to sound jocular, "she's significantly more frightening when you can't see her coming."

There was a pause. "Stop that."

"What?"

"Cracking blind jokes."

"You do it all the time."

"As a _joke_. You do it to try to hide that you're upset. It's not the same thing."

 _I didn't think you'd notice._ "I'm not upset."

"You look upset."

"And you sound like Mom."

"What, frightening?"

"No. Fussy. I'd rather laugh about it than cry, Sayu. That's all."

"You're allowed to cry."

"I know I'm allowed. I'd rather not." Light wet his lip. "I'd rather not."

* * *

The days before the operation were the worst, a nightmare blur of tearful visits, isolation, and growing dread. By day, Light trailed his fingers across the collage of photos above his bunk, trying to memorize each detail that he saw: the stray wisps of his mother's hair, his father's wrinkles, the exact, shy curve of Sayu's smile. By night, he closed his eyes and paced the cell, bruising his shins more than once on the toilet as he groped his way along the walls. He counted his steps to the shower, to the interview room, to bed, drinking in his surroundings wherever he went. Pointless rituals, all of them, but he clung to them nevertheless. Bleak and bare as his prison was, it was all he had left—the last sights his doomed eyes would ever see.

_I made a choice._

They took him from his cell in the dead of night and returned him three days later, still numb with disbelief. For all his preparations, the prison might as well have been brand new to him. Sound echoed strangely in the corridors, disorienting him, and his inability to spot obstacles taxed his already ragged nerves. _I'm weak, and I'm shackled, and I don't know where I am. If someone were to attack me out here, I'd have no chance._ Abandoning his pride, he all but clung to his escort, stumbling in his efforts to keep pace.

Metal scraped on metal, and Light recoiled. His guard steadied him. "We're almost there, inmate. Just a little further."

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry."

If Light had expected conversation, he didn't get it. With a huff of annoyance, the guard led him down another hallway, their footfalls rebounding off the concrete. _I don't remember his voice, but I may have seen him before. I wonder what he looks like?_ Short of running his fingers over the man, there was no way for Light to know.

_I made a choice._

The guard pulled him to a halt, and Light stood meekly in place, listening. _That jingle is his key ring, and that rasp must be the lock. His boot soles squeak—rubber? And that's the door..._

"Get in," said the guard.

"It's the same cell?"

"It is."

Light took a cautious step forward, his chained hands up to feel for the doorway. With a heavy sigh, the guard steered him inside.

"Hands on the wall, inmate."

Light complied, standing still to be unshackled. Once he heard the door shut behind him, he felt around to get his bearings, turning his steps in the direction of his bunk. Tumbling into it, he reached up to touch his photos, desperate for reassurance.

They weren't there.

Confused, Light felt around the wall, tracing the bumps and indents of the concrete as far as he could reach. Then he slid out of bed and crossed the cell again, his hands extended before him.

"Hey, wait! Come back!" He pounded on the door, insistent. "Come back!"

The retreating footsteps paused, then turned back in his direction. The judas hole creaked open. "You should be in bed, inmate."

"I can't find my photos."

Light cringed at the silence that followed, unable to judge the guard's reaction without sight. After a moment, the guard sighed. "Why do you need them?"

 _Because they're mine. Because they're all I have. Because if I can't touch them, I'm going to forget..._ "Does it matter, sir?"

"They were sent back to your family. We didn't think you still had a use for them." There was no cruelty in the man's voice, but no compassion either. "The only reason someone in your position needs decorations is to hide something."

"I'm not hiding anything! I just want them back!"

"Go to bed, inmate."

"But—"

"I gave you an order."

Blind or not, Light knew the click of a retractable pen when he heard it. _No write-ups, no trouble, or they'll kill me. That was the deal._ Heart pounding, he took his hands off the door. "Please don't."

"Then get in bed. Now."

Light found his bunk and fell into it, shaking. Once he was certain the guard had moved on, he finally allowed himself to cry.

* * *

"So you're all dressed up, then?" Light asked.

"Yeah."

He held out his hands, awkward and tentative. "Could I just—feel the sleeve?"

"It's sleeveless, Light. The ceremony is Western-style."

He raised an eyebrow. "How modern of you."

"How thrifty, you mean. I have better things to do with a million yen than rent a bunch of kimonos."

"Please. I'm pretty sure Ryuzaki can afford to rent you a few kimonos."

Sayu was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was sharp enough to cut. "I'm not begging _Ryuzaki_ to fund my wedding, Light."

"Why not? Seems to me it's the least he can do."

"He blinded you."

"He saved my life."

"He didn't have to be cruel about it."

 _I can't argue with that._ "I agreed to it, Sayu," he said wearily. "Too late to do anything about it now."

"To hell with that. Mom might forgive him, but I don't. It's bad enough we're living off his charity, Light. I'm not asking him for more."

"Sayu—"

"Dad agreed with me, you know."

 _I know._ "Dad also wanted you to be happy. He wouldn't have judged you."

"He wanted _you_ to be happy, too. I think that says a lot about what Dad wouldn't judge."

Stung, Light changed the subject. "Can you describe the dress for me, at least?"

"You can feel it. Hang on." He heard her stand, skirt rustling, and then she was beside him. Tentative, he reached out for her, his fingertips brushing the fabric of her skirt. _Smooth fabric, embroidered, heavy. Silk, most likely. Pearl beading, probably fake. And the pattern..._ He slid his hand up, trying to trace the shape of the embroidery, but she pushed him away. "Hey, now. Don't make it weird."

"Sorry. It feels nice."

"It took me forever to pick it out. I think I had everyone I know trailing along to give suggestions: my friends, Mom, Mrs. Fukui, Cousin Keiko—"

"Mrs. Fukui?" Light asked, baffled.

"My mother-in-law. Remember?"

"Of course." _No._ "How many stores did you go to?"

"Eight."

"Eight? Damn. How long did that take you?"

"You don't want to know. It was agony."

He smiled. "Sounds like you had fun."

"I did. I have a tiara now, did you know that? A freaking tiara. Seven-year-old me is so excited she could cry."

"You always did want to be a princess."

"For a few years, sure. Then I wanted to be a tennis player like you. Or a vet." Sayu sighs. "I don't know what I want to be now."

"Mrs. Sayu Fukui, apparently."

"Well, yes. Besides that."

"You're also my sister."

Light could almost hear her eyes roll. "Besides that."

"That isn't enough for you? I'm hurt."

"You're a pain."

 _Tell me something I don't know._ "I wish I could have gone with you."

"What, dress shopping? No, you don't. You'd have been bored to tears."

"I'm bored to tears here. I might as well do it in better company."

"You've never counted Keiko as good company before."

He shrugged. "I've lowered my standards."

Sayu's laugh twittered like birdsong, and Light couldn't help smiling. "Is that why you let me visit?" she asked.

"Of course. If I let Ryuzaki visit, I might as well let in everyone."

She let out a _pah_ of disgust at the name, the warmth draining from her voice. "He visits you?"

"Not really, no. Not in years. But if he did, I wouldn't turn him away."

"You really must be desperate."

"Ha." There was no hint of a joke in Light's reply. "Maybe I am."

* * *

"You look better than I expected," said L.

Light grimaced. "Wish I could say the same."

"I imagine so. Do you still have light perception, or is that gone as well?"

"Gone." Light's voice was bitter. "I can't see a goddamn thing."

"Oh." There was an awkward pause. "How are you feeling?"

"How the hell am I supposed to feel? You win, Ryuzaki. You finally framed me. I hope you're satisfied."

"No."

"You're not?"

"I didn't frame you."

"I didn't kill anyone."

"You confessed."

"I made it up. They wouldn't leave me alone, they wouldn't let me sleep, I couldn't—"

"Would it help if I played back your confession for you?"

"Why? I know what I said, damn it. It wasn't true."

"Light." He heard a clunk, as though something hard had just been set down on the table. "Just be quiet and listen."

A button clicked, followed by the unmistakable sound of a tape recorder starting to run. Reluctantly, Light sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. As the tape played, his frown deepened, his lips parting in confusion and disbelief. _I don't remember saying this..._

"This can't be right," he cut in, his voice rising. "You edited the tape. I never—"

"Just listen."

Light fell silent again, shaken, fidgeting in his chair as his own voice condemned him in detail. Though he couldn't see, he could feel L's eyes on him, but the detective never said a word. Once the confession reached its end, L yawned and pressed another button to stop the tape.

"Ryuzaki," Light said hoarsely, "what the hell is going on?"

"I knew you wouldn't take my word for anything. I thought you might listen to yourself." L's voice was level, unpitying. "Will you listen to me now?"

Light nodded.

"You were Kira. Your method of killing, as you described, was a shinigami's notebook. When that notebook was taken away from you, you lost all your memories concerning it as well. As you can hear from the recordings, you are amnesiac, not innocent."

"That's not possible. Shinigami are just a story. I don't have any gaps in my memory, I don't—"

"I have more proof, if you need it."

 _I don't want it._ "All right."

Something papery grazed Light's hand and was just as suddenly withdrawn. Light frowned in confusion, tensing at the sound of an unfamiliar voice overhead.

"Hyuk. He still can't see me, you know."

"I'm aware," said L dryly. "He can hear you."

"Who is that?" Light asked, unnerved.

"Your shinigami. Ryuk." L's voice was calm. "You don't remember him."

"Shinigami aren't real."

The voice—Ryuk—laughed. Light flinched.

"Would you like to touch him?" L asked.

"No."

L grabbed his hand anyway, guiding it up to what was unmistakably a face—though the shape and feel of it were anything but human. Unnaturally cold flesh moved beneath Light's fingers, stretched taut over an unfamiliar structure of bone. Light shuddered. _It's a trick. It has to be some kind of trick. Easy to fool someone who can't see..._

"Prove it," he said. "Say something."

"Like what?"

"Something I'd remember, but L wouldn't know."

"Oh? Let's see. Hyuk." The cold flesh moved beneath Light's hands, unnervingly lifelike. "Your friend Yamamoto only sends New Year's cards to girls."

_No._

Light whimpered, snatching his hands back as if he'd been scalded. The thing laughed at him again, a horrible, dry sound.

"Do you believe me now?" L asked, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

Light nodded. "Get it away from me."

"Ryuk, leave him alone."

The laughter retreated some distance away, dying down to a quiet chuckle. Light clutched at his head, overwhelmed and horrified. _I'm guilty. I'm guilty. This isn't a mistake._ _I sent L after Yotsuba, I sent L after **me** , I did this to myself, I—_

"I suppose this is goodbye," said L.

Light's head jerked up. "You're—?"

"I have work to do, Light. I destroyed your notebook already. Once I get rid of this one, your case is closed." L's chair scraped the floor, loudly announcing his departure. "Time for me to move along."

Too quickly, Light rose from his seat as well, bruising his thighs against the table and nearly falling. "You can't leave me like this."

"Why not?"

Light fumbled for a reason. "You owe me. I helped you with Yotsuba. You wouldn't have caught me without me."

"You have a strange idea of debt."

"I can still help you. You've done it before. Wedy and Aiber—"

"Were never caught," said L. "I'm not abandoning my responsibilities, Light. You'll be taken care of, as will your family. I can assure you of that."

 _He thinks I'm a coward._ Light bit his lip, desperate. "I helped you. After everything you did to me, I still helped. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"Light." A note of pity entered L's voice, but the words were harsh and final. "Why do you think you're still alive?"

He never came again.

* * *

"Aren't you melodramatic," said Sayu.

"Just truthful."

"Oh, come on."

"I'm serious. You and Mom are the only people I ever talk to, aside from the guards. I could use a little company."

"And we're not good enough?"

 _No._ "You haven't visited me in two months, Sayu. You're good enough. Just not very frequent."

Sayu shifted in her seat, her rustling skirt betraying her discomfort. "I've been busy."

"I know, and I get it. But don't pretend I'm your first priority. We both know that's not true."

"So? I have a life outside of you. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"I never said you should."

"You implied it. _We_ didn't do anything wrong, Light. Our lives don't have to stop because you were an idiot." She took a deep breath. "Once the honeymoon's over, I'll be around more often. I promise."

"Will you?" Light's voice was bitter. "And how do you plan to explain that to Mr. Fukui?"

"Don't call him that."

"I can't exactly call him by his first name, now can I? We've never been introduced."

"What do you want me to do?" she snapped. "Tell him his future brother-in-law is a mass-murderer? If your secret gets out, they'll _kill_ you. You've got no freaking right to blame me, Light. You chose this, not me."

 _Mass-murderer._ Light's stomach clenched. "You think I _wanted_ this to happen?"

"You killed people! Thousands of them. You're supposed to be the genius here, what did you think was going to happen?"

"I didn't—"

"You abandoned us, Light! We _needed_ you!"

"Sayu, please—"

She ignored him. "You have no idea what it's been like. Mom's been a wreck since your arrest, and Dad—I had to make the arrangements for Dad's funeral myself, did you know that? Mom was falling apart, _I_ was falling apart, and you weren't even there. It should have been you, Light! It _should_ have been _you_."

Light swallowed hard, his stomach knotted with guilt. He had always wondered what Sayu really thought of him, and he'd always been afraid to ask. Now, he knew. "Should have been me to make the arrangements, or should have been me to—?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Do I?" For once, Light was grateful he couldn't see her face. He only wished she couldn't see his. "I wouldn't blame you, Sayu. I know what they say I am. What I did. I don't remember it, but that doesn't mean it wasn't my fault. And I wish—I wish I could say I don't deserve this, but I can't. I just wish I knew _why_."

For just a moment, he saw his hands in vivid relief, a memory clearer than sight. Then they were gone. Overcome, he blinked at the darkness, his head bowed in defeat.

"I didn't want to be a burden, Sayu. I thought—I thought I was protecting you. That if people didn't know about me, you'd all be happier, and if I were alive, then maybe—maybe I could still be there for you. Make things easier, somehow. But I can't, can I? I can't do a damn thing." He felt sudden warmth on his face, and realized he was crying. "I chose wrong."

"Light..."

Her hand cupped his face, warm and tender, and Light flinched away as if he'd been burned. "You should stop coming."

"No."

"Mom will still visit. I'll be fine." The lie wasn't up to his usual standard. "Just go."

"They took your eyes, not your ears. I said no."

For a moment, Light couldn't respond. "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"Pretend I'm okay." He nearly choked on the words. "Pretend I want to be alive."

"Then don't. We may not be geniuses, but we're not stupid. Do you really think we haven't noticed you falling apart?"

L's face flashed in his memory, and Light cracked a sad smile. "I'm an optimist."

"You're an idiot." Sayu's thumb brushed his cheek, wiping away the tears. "Mom still needs you, Light."

"She doesn't."

"She does. I won't ask you to stick around forever, but Mom can't take another funeral. Just wait until she dies, Light. After that...do whatever you think is best. I won't judge you."

 _Until Mom dies._ His grip on time had begun to elude him, but his mathematical abilities hadn't. _She's fifty now, or will be soon. Thirty years, then. Possibly more._ The thought of that much time was a lump of iron in his stomach, his dread hard and cold. _I'm not even thirty now._

Light shook his head. "I can't promise you that."

"I'm not asking you to promise. I'm just asking you to try. For Mom's sake, and for mine. Please."

Her hand found his face again, and this time, he didn't pull away. Placing his hand over hers, he clung to her like a life buoy, his face crumpled and distraught. "Sayu, I—please don't ask me this."

"I'm asking, Light. For us." Her voice was husky. "Do it for us."

_For them._

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Light nodded.

* * *

"No infractions," said the warden quietly. "That was the deal."

Light fidgeted in his seat, his shackles rattling. "I know that, sir."

"Yet my officers tell me you deliberately stuffed your clothing down the toilet and flushed until you flooded your cell. Is that true?"

"I didn't mean to—"

"Is it true?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

The warden's tongue clucked disapproval. "One call to the tribunal, and I could have your death warrant on my desk tonight. You're a headache waiting to happen, Kira. They'd be all too glad to see you gone."

 _He wants to see me beg._ Though theoretically a lifer, Light was housed on death row, the better to isolate and hide him from the other inmates. Deal or no deal, he knew the heart-pounding terror of approaching footsteps at 8:30 a.m., the guilty relief when he heard someone else's door creak ajar: _it isn't me._ A few of the prisoners went with dignity, but most screamed, their pleas echoing in Light's ears as they were dragged down the corridor to their deaths. _I can't let that be me._

"I'm aware of that, sir," he said cautiously. "I—"

The warden's voice interrupted, brusque and sharp. "No one asked you to speak."

"No, sir. I'm sorry, s—"

Something slammed against the desk, and Light flinched back. Behind him, his escort guard began to laugh.

"You're a headache to me, too, you know," the warden continued, calm once more. "All these accommodations, so many special rules. Nothing would make me happier than to be rid of you, Kira. Believe me, I'd be glad."

Shaken, Light held his tongue, trying his best to look contrite. The sooner the warden thought he was terrified, the sooner the charade would end. _You're not going to kill me. You wouldn't drag this out so much if you were._ Even without seeing the man's face, he was certain of that.

The warden cleared his throat. "Tell me why you did it."

"It won't happen again, sir."

"I'm sure it won't. That's not what I asked."

 _Because I was lonely. Because I was bored. Because my father loved the seaside, and it was the closest to the ocean I'll ever be._ He had stood barefoot in the water as the toilet gushed, his imagination conjuring up a parade of memories: sandcastles, his father laughing, the glint and roar of waves. It was a game he often played with himself, trying to _believe_ himself out of his cell, but this was the first time it had almost worked. Then the guards had rushed in, and the moment was gone. _Because the guards don't talk to me, but the walls do. Because I want to die._

Light wet his lip. "I don't know why I did it, sir. Something just snapped. But my mind is clear now, sir, I promise."

"Something snapped. I see." Unseen fingers drummed the desk again before slamming to a halt. "You've been here five years now, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is your first conduct report?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm. In light of your spotless record to this point, I'll keep this little indiscretion between us."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"I wasn't finished. I won't hang you, but I won't coddle you, either. No recreation for a month, and no visitors for six weeks. You can use the time in your cell to get your mind in order. Fair enough?"

 _No._ Light's mind reeled in panic. "Sir, if I may—"

"You may not."

"But I need those visits. I—my father died two days ago, sir."

"So I heard." The warden's voice was flat, devoid of sympathy. "An accident?"

"No, sir. A heart attack." The escort guard snorted with amusement, and Light's face heated. "He was a good man."

"I'm sure he was," replied the warden. "That's not an excuse."

"I know, sir. I know. But my family is in mourning, sir. They need me."

"Need you? That's unlikely."

Light's hands clenched, straining against his shackles. "I'm the oldest son, sir. The only son. My mother—"

"Is irrelevant. You made your choices, Kira. If you were as dutiful a son as you claim, you wouldn't be here."

"Sir, I—"

" _Eight_ weeks without visits, and not another word out of you, unless you want to give her another funeral to plan. Is that clear?"

 _Fuck you, sir,_ Light wanted to snap, but the words refused to leave his mouth. The thought of dying held no sting for him—not anymore—but he could all but taste his father's disapproval, thick and bitter on his tongue. _Mom and Sayu are already grieving. I can't do this to them. Not now._

Humiliated, he bowed his head in defeat.

"Yes, sir. I understand."

* * *

Sayu's thumb caressed his cheek.

"It's all right," she said quietly. "Hey. It's all right. Stay with me."

For a moment, he could almost see her, the way she'd looked at him the day he broke the news. The details of her face were fading, but he had never forgotten her eyes. _We were both just kids, and she was more scared than I was. But she grew up, and I never have._

Light only wished he could have seen it.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "This is supposed to be your day, and I—I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's all right."

"It's not all right. I've taken enough from you already. I don't want to be a burden anymore."

"You're not a burden. I promise."

 _Don't be an idiot_ , he tried to say, but only the last word made it past the lump in his throat. Sayu laughed.

"You are that," she said, teasing. "But I forgive you."

 _Forgive._ Light bit his lip. "I can't do anything for her. Or for you."

"There's one thing you can do."

"What's that?"

Her voice was gentle. "Dance with me."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. My big brother can do anything." Releasing his face, she took hold of his hands instead. "You said it yourself: it's my day. I'm getting married, Light. Get out of that chair and dance with me."

_All right._

Light stood, allowing her to pull him gently toward clearer ground. "You'll have to steer."

"I can steer. Can you waltz?"

"I can try."

"Good enough." She guided his hands into position, taking his arm. "Are you going to lead or should I?"

"I'll make you a deal. You steer, I'll lead."

"All right. One two three, one two three..."

They both tried to step forward and collided. Light grinned. "I thought I was leading?"

"Shut up. This is why I need to practice."

 _Liar._ Her affronted tone was almost convincing, but he'd felt her tense well before the impact. _She screwed up on purpose to make me feel better. What's worse, it worked._ "Let's practice, then. One two three, one two three..."

This time, there were no mistakes. They waltzed a while in near silence, striving for synchronicity through touch alone.

"You look beautiful," Light whispered.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

Sayu squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, Light."

"Just stating the obvious."

She flicked his arm, and he stumbled, his focus broken. At once, her arm was there to catch him, guiding him back into rhythm and balance. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. That's what I get for giving you compliments."

"Jerk."

"I am not."

"Mmhmm. Just try not to fall down."

Light did his best to comply, lapsing back into silence. Not having to focus on conversation made it easier to listen for the rustling of her skirt, and he did his best to place his feet accordingly. "This isn't so bad," he said at last.

"Told you so. Should we try a promenade?"

"Probably not, but we can try."

Sayu laughed, and he raised his arm to signal the turn. She flicked him again. "Higher. I can't limbo in this dress."

"Is this better?"

"Yes."

She ducked under his arm, counting her steps under her breath. Light cracked a weak smile. "Sorry, Sayu. I don't remember you being this tall."

"I don't remember you being this short. Did you shrink in here?"

"Don't I wish. It would be nice to have more room."

"Ha. That's one way to get it, I guess." She rose up to kiss his cheek. "I love you, Light."

 _I know._ "I love you, too."

"I love you more."

"Are you sure about that? You know what they say, after all."

"What's that?"

Light gestured to his face. "Love is blind."

 _You weren't wrong about me, L,_ he thought, as Sayu nudged him in the ribs. _I could find an alternative. But I made a choice, and I chose them. For once in my life, I'm keeping my word._ However long his family needed him, whatever the cost, he would be there. It wasn't much to cling to, but it was enough.

_Because love is blind._

Smiling at his sister, Light raised his arm for another turn.


End file.
